Hey Mum.. so.. your still gone.. and another year has rolled on by.. not sure what I expect.. if anything is different. No, not really. One thing, Pauly is still barely teaching, says he will quite frequently, has plans to work in the mines – Has a lover, Abby, and they have very recently purchased a home together. Dadz Is still unemployed, but works a bit doing volunteer stuff for an assortment of organisations, such as Habitat for Humanity and different Arts Groups. Nan is still Alive.
Bit bler at present. sleep deprived as per usual. Shouldn’t complain have had a couple hrs, probably 5 in the last few days I’d say so should be happy. Would like a bank in which i could store the hours of sleep that I am in debt -sleep to store when in need. To clear away the fuzzy light headedness. Or perhaps install a set of windscreen wipers behind the eyes and a set of hands to wring out the brain, every oh, i dunno- every 5 minutes or so.. a great way to keep a clear mind. That would be nice.
I Think too much sleep too little, write too little, paint not nearly enough, the days are ridiculous, to put the days into blocks of a window of 24 hours is obscene. and I miss.. I miss a great deal.
I have discovered that you cannot change people. that can only change themselves. It’s selfish and when trying to do so.. its like walking around with a grenade in your mouth with the pin removed.. no matter what you say or do.. you are bound to fuck up, because your on a one way path to destruct. Because dude, You are a self serving asshole. I am a complete motherfucking self serving geskthaserht. Because, I shouldnt want people to change of what I see… i get that.. They should want to change for themselves . I am a jerk for expecting people to change and forcing my opinions and expecting people to do this and that just because .. I guess.. It will at the end of the day.. make me feel better.. see.. asshole. gah. For fuck sake let people live their own lives. if they fall on their faces – they can learn about it. grow. bleh. whatever.
Quitting this is like a habit – Its hard. It’s like A fat kid with cake. he’s not just gonaa eat one piece if offered, gonna jam the entire cake in his mouth and then try and have a conversation.. egh..
The next two weeks im walking around with Duct tape on my mouth. simple.
Starting tomorrow.. today, I have to speak.. I have instruction. Follow that.. and well. fuck it.
I wrote instructions. Last day of ICYS kids. They are cool bunch of young people. As long as we all come out of it breathing with all limbs attached thats all I hope for. If by chance we actually accomplish the tasks at hand then that is a bonus.
Hope that Kristy is pulling through Ok.. writing funeral arrangements is a tough gig. She will. A great compartmentaliser i think. Emotion A goes here, emotion B here, boxes, brains are great boxes, especially in times of likes these. Lyn, you were a Groover, miss your guts!